Van Helsing Legacy
by Casey 'Flame' Wolfe
Summary: In 1888 Dracula was killed by Van Helsing, but now a new evil has taken his place. Fifty years later, the man known as Gabriel Van Helsing is dead but his family lives on. A new Van Helsing and an heir to the Valerious name come together to fight the next Dracula. Full description inside
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I debated a long time about whether or not to upload some old campfires of mine that were based on various fandoms. Finally I decided "what the hell." So, for those not in the know, campfires are stories written by multiple people in which they take turns to tell the story the original author has laid out. For all the campfire stories I'll upload, I have been the original creator and controlling force behind the plot. But each author owns their individual characters and writing. All authors are credited at the beginning of their written section. Most of these never had an ending, so if there is interest, perhaps I'll continue them. My penname in this campfire was " Dark Tala," so those are the sections that are my work. There was only 4 of us working on this, and over the years of doing campfires together we all became fast friends, and this was one of the last things we all wrote together.**

* * *

_In 1888 Dracula was killed by Van Helsing, but now a new evil has taken his place. The year is now 1938, fifty years later. The man known as Gabriel Van Helsing is dead but his family lives on._

_His granddaughter has taken off right where he left off. But she won't be alone, oh no. You see the Valerious is not lost, his great-grandson is still out there, and he has been called for help. To help against whom you might ask? Well Dracula's only son of course!_

_Before Dracula's last wife Marishka was changed, she bore a child. So to avoid the child's death, Dracula sent his son away to another vampire coven in Austria where he was well respected. After Marishka was changed into a bride, Dracula tried again to have children with her. But to their disappointment they turned out like the other two brides, Aleera and Verona's, all eggs._

_But Dracula wasn't the only one with an heir hidden away. Boris Valerious had another son Tren, younger brother to Anna and Velkan. When more of their relatives started to die, Valerious sent Tren, away in hopes that he would be safe. That way in case the rest of the family had died before killing Dracula, their other family members would be able to kill him and secure their place in heaven._

_So what will happen when these three descendents of the first battle get together? Well I guess we'll find out…_

* * *

**[Dark Tala]** A shadowy figure peered from the darkness, watching the passing crowd as a hunter would its prey. Pulling out a gun, the shadow shot a hooked claw up onto the roof of the building. Checking to make sure it caught it climbed the stone wall to the roof.

The figure peered down at the city, their face hidden by a black stetson. From their trench coat they pulled another item, a shotgun, something they normally didn't have. But for this night it was a must.

Settling down on the edge of the roof, they scanned the street below. Through the crowd came what they hunted, a scientist. But this wasn't the good doctor type. This one was evil, working for the vampires and other dark cults.

The shadow spotted their quarry, taking careful aim. As soon as they received a clear shot they took it, striking the victim in the center of the head. The scientist fell to the street, dead and bleeding heavily.

Naturally a crowd gathered around the scene. One man looked around for the source, spotting the shadow that now stood out against the moonlight. The long trench coat blew slightly in the breeze, the silhouette unmistakable.

"Van Helsing," the man yelled up to the shadow, "you murderer!" Smirking to themselves the shadow took a flying leap to the next building. Sliding down the fire escape the figure took off into the night just as quickly as they'd come.

St. Peter's stood proud and tall in the Vatican City. It was a place of peace, beauty, hope… and secrets. The Knights of the Holy Order harbored there, in the armory hidden underground. They fought the very powers of darkness, they saw it all.

Cardinal Rosty waited patiently. He looked over the hunter as they walked in, seeming to know the answer he'd receive. "Done," the figure said, pulling off the stetson. Nadia Van Helsing stood before the Order, as her father and grandfather before her.

"You're growing stronger Dia," the cardinal said. "I think it's time you take on this new mission." She just nodded, following him through the armory. It wasn't a shock to her she'd be reassigned so soon. She was one of the best agents the Order had, and was proud of it.

"You know the story of your grandfather," he spoke.

"Of course, who doesn't?"

"Very few I'm sure," Rosty smirked. "But we have reason to believe that Gabriel failed in killing the plague."

Before the young Van Helsing could ask he explained. "The Shiro of Austria have long been fought by the Order. The scientist you killed tonight worked closely with them in fact. It seems though that they've been harboring an heir."

"An heir to whom?"

The cardinal showed her a picture from his desk. It was a group of people wandering through a square of shops. "Okay, not following."

"These are members of the Shiro. There's Listad and next to him is Daknavar, Dracula's only son."

Nadia's mouth dropped in disbelief. Rosty just handed her a large stack, all getting a better view of this vampire, Daknavar. If she could have, she would have burnt the images with her eyes. She knew exactly what she'd do, she'd kill him.

Rosty nodded, as if sensing this in her. "He's been dying to go back home to Transylvania. But Listad won't let him, for now. But if he does you'll be waiting for him and whatever followers he brings along."

Nodding, Dia laid the pictures down and started to head off to get supplies. "Nadia," the cardinal said, stopping her in her tracks. "You'll also have some help on this particular mission."

"I don't need any help," she scoffed.

"I believe you will. Maleus Valerious is coming in from England."

Again her eyes widened, there were none of the Valerious left. "A Valerious?" Dia noted, "How?"

"Dracula wasn't the only one who hid an heir. Boris Valerious did it so that if in fact the line died before the Count was killed then more of his own would be able to finish the job."

She thought this all through for a moment, looking around the busyness of the armory. "I still don't need a partner."

"Never the less he'll be here by tomorrow night, and he will be going with you."

"If he gets in my way…" Dia gritted her teeth.

"Calm yourself," Rosty scolded. "You need to prepare to leave. Let me worry about Maleus." She sighed heavily before nodding.

"As you wish," she mocked sarcastically.

Nadia headed deeper into the armory, finding her main man. He always had something new for her, at least some kind of upgrade. And if she was going to Transylvania to kill Dracula's son, she'd need his brain. "Sep," Dia smiled wryly, "what you got for me?"

She was restless. Not being able to stand the wait, Nadia had gone out on a small mission to get rid of a little pest problem in Venice. It wasn't really that much of a challenge but it would keep her busy none-the-less.

Hearing the shriek of her prey she looked up into the night sky. A fire demon in its second form flew overhead. They appeared almost like dragons, only not as huge. This one was probably a good twenty years by looking at him.

A few more followed, younger then him, four of them. Dia stayed in the shadows, watching them swoop down into the city. They landed in the square at the large fountain as she figured they would.

The three females shifted to their human forms to rest, while the males stayed in their second form on guard. "How do you not notice five dragons flying around?" she muttered under her breath. "I mean really now?"

Dia grabbed the jet-propelled crossbow from her shoulder. Sep had armed it with special stakes, half silver, and half icelinxs. It was a deadly compound they had studied to use against different fire breeds. And it worked wonders.

Still sticking to the shadows, Dia ventured further into the square. She noticed the larger male perk up his ears, but then he settled down again. The other male took great gulps of water out of the fountain, filling up from his flight.

Taking aim she picked the first target. The young male was at the perfect angle. One quick pull and a single stake shot from the crossbow, landing square in his heart. The fire demon turned into ash and bone.

Nadia jumped from the shadows, firing at the trio as they screamed. The leader had taken off back into the sky and dove for her. She rolled just in time after hitting a female. The two remaining tried to shift but Dia caught one in the shoulder.

As the other took off she lay on the ground in pain. The icelinxs spread through her body, making her skin bubble and her blood vessels swell to an unnatural bright blue. She shrieked as she was engulfed by the poison. The dust blew away till all left was bone.

The male circled, diving at her again. Nadia spun around right as he impacted with her chest. She was sent back flying into a window of a shop. "Okay, no more playin' nice," she hissed, scrambling out of the broken glass.

She spotted the last female who had made the mistake of coming in low. Firing a series of shots, Dia clipped her wings. She plummeted to the ground, right into the fountain. The poison started to take effect, but the young hunter ignored the scene.

She was watching, waiting. Nadia searched the skies for the leader. She heard the flap of large wings behind her and ducked as he passed over. Firing off more rounds she hit him a few times, but nothing that would seriously injure him.

"Shit!" Dia hissed as the crossbow ran out of stakes. The demon doubled back, heading strait for her. She reached into her trench coat, yanking another cylinder out. She threw it in and pulled the trigger, just as he loomed in front of her.

He grunted, sailing over her and skidding along the street. The male stopped, slumping into himself. As he rolled over, she saw the blue veins creep up his neck into his face. Stepping over his body just as he turned to ash, she slung the bow on her shoulder. "Clean up on aisle five."

The next evening the hunter walked through the darkness of Rome. She made her way to an abandoned marketplace. The boozers were strewn about and the few bars and shops down this way were packed full.

Nadia reached the place she had come for, the Blue Room. It was a magic store; an old gypsy woman owned it. Dia came here often for information or supplies. But right now she was hunting for a few "friends."

Migisi greeted her when she walked in. A few demons in human form and some witches were there, but the others were normal humans. This wasn't just a store, although it may have appeared that way. It was a shelter for the dark creatures, though they weren't evil.

The Order had no clue about this place. Dia had kept it a secret. But she made sure to routinely go and make sure there was no trouble. Anything evil that tried to hide here was instantly dead. Not that Migisi would purposely take in an evil.

"What you lookin' for tonight dear?" Migisi asked when she approached the counter.

"I've come to check out the back," Dia said, eyeing the gypsy woman carefully. Migisi nodded and looked to the customers.

Leaving the counter she motioned Nadia to follow her behind a curtain into the back supply room. There she moved a self aside to reveal a doorway. Opening it, it revealed a stairway that spiraled down into the ground. "Thanks, I won't be long."

Dia made her way down the stairs to the underground hideout. It was like its own little city. It had everything, and it seemed to go on forever. Nadia was never really sure how many buildings it was under, at least ten or fifteen.

She looked around, noticing a few familiar demons. They nodded with respect to her, after all the young Van Helsing kept them safe here. 'If the Order ever knew,' Dia shoved the thought away. It sure wouldn't be pretty.

A few demons in human form strolled around a cart. Seeing her in that mood they stopped dead. Dia smirked at them, "Dae, Mord and Haelus, just the demons I've been looking for." The three looked at each other nervously before taking off.

Dia was right behind them, pinning Dae to a column. "Why didn't you tell me about the Shiro! About Daknavar!"

"About who?" Dae whined.

The hunter spun him around to gaze into his eyes. He shivered at the intensity and she grabbed a hold of Haelus too. "I swear to God, all three of you are gonna get it if you've been keepin' shit from me!"

"We don't know what you're talkin' about! We swear!" Haelus whined. She let go of them and turned to Mord. The youngest of the little group shied away, hitting the wall of a small shop.

"Mord, I swear…"

"Dia!"

The hunter turned to Dae with surprise. The leader of this little trio had never spoken to her in that way before. But then she realized what she was doing. These three were as close as a friend came to her and she had just turned into a raving monster to them.

"Sorry," she admitted, something she rarely did to anyone. Dae nodded, as did the other two. She half smiled at Mord, helping him to his feet. "I guess it's just been a long night."

"Have you slept?" Dae asked in concern.

Nadia shook her head and they walked over to sit in a quiet spot. "I've just been worked up about this whole thing… Never mind, I should have known better that you guys wouldn't have kept it from me."

"Kept what from you?" Haelus asked.

"Dracula…" The three demons flushed and looked at each other. They always kept her informed on what happened in the demonic world. Sometimes they knew things before the Order did.

"Dracula has been dead for fifty years Dia," Mord admitted. "I don't know why you would be stressing over that."

"I'm not, it's his son. That's right you heard me… his son… Dracula had a son. And now I have to kill him."

Haelus laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll try and find something for you. You said something about the Shiro. You mean the clan in Austria right?"

"Yea, they've had Daknavar all this time, raising him up to a monster."

They looked at each other again, nodding solemnly. "We'll help any way we can," Dae said.

"Did you know Valerious had another son too? His grandson Maleus is supposed to come 'help me.'" Again the demons looked shocked. It seemed the families had kept good secrets, because if anyone knew things it was these three.

"I should get back to the Vatican," Nadia sighed. "Maleus is coming from England and I want to leave for Transylvania, preferably tonight."

"Be careful Dia," Dae whispered. Haelus and Mord nodded in agreement. "Good luck," he added as she disappeared up the stairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**[ShadowDawn]** The woman sauntered down the shadowy alley. She did not spare a glance at the few homeless men lurking by the garbage cans, even as they threw various lewd comments at her. Several suggested 'freebies.' She ignored them. They could not afford her services, and were of no interest to her.

Business was slow tonight, and she decided a change of location was necessary. It was trickier in the ritzy neighborhood. She would have to keep her eyes open for police. But the rich men paid much better. It was worth the risk of a few nights in jail.

She kept to the back ways. The cops rarely came this way. They were far more interested in keeping the city's best face forward. No one cared what happened in the back alleys.

As she approached the end of the alley, a man stepped out of the shadows. Hands clasped behind him, his eyes roamed across her revealing clothing, a suggestive smile playing at his lips.

Even in the dim light, the prostitute could see that he wore an expensive silk shirt. The dark blue fabric fluttered against his body, hinting at a muscular frame beneath. Wind played at his out-dated ponytail, pulling a strand free. The dark strand slipped in front of his angular face. She smiled. He was quite handsome. Young, handsome and rich, just the way she liked her men.

"Hey there, handsome. Looking for some company?"

"Indeed I am." He glided toward her, hands still clasped behind him.

"The name's Candy. Where would you like to go?"

"I have a place in mind."

He was close enough that Candy could finally see his eyes. They were dark, with traces of silver gracing them. She stared at his eyes, aware of nothing else, save those twin orbs. They were fascinating. They...

Candy blinked, then gasped. The city was gone. Instead, she found herself alone, surrounded by trees and underbrush.

"What...? How...?"

"I told you I had a place in mind," a gentle voice whispered in her ear.

She started and spun around. She had been alone a moment ago, she was sure of it. Now, the young man from the alley stood calmly before her. Candy placed her hand on her heart, panting. The man gazed intently at her. His secretive smile did nothing to reassure her. Once again, he had his hands clasped behind him.

"Wh-what is going on here?" she stammered.

"A game."

Suddenly, he was gone. Candy gasped and stumbled backwards. He had not moved. He had simply disappeared. Shivering, her eyes darted around the forest.

"The rules are simple."

Gentle hands gripped her shoulders. She jumped and tried to pull away. But the soft touch was impossibly strong. She could not free herself. He pulled her against his chest. One hand caressed her shoulder as the other slipped down to her waist. His lips brushed her neck. Goose bumps broke out across her body as his teeth scraped lightly against her flesh. Perhaps it was her imagination, but they felt sharper than human.

"I will give you one hour to escape this forest. If I catch you, you are mine to do with as I please. If you escape, you are free to go." His breath tickled the small hairs one her neck as he spoke. The hand on her shoulder slipped up to her neck, encircling it. Candy felt her pulse pounding, like a caged animal, against his fingertips. He must have felt it too. He paused, seeming to savor it.

"Who...who are you?"

"Call me Dracula." His lips lingered beside her frantic pulse.

She almost laughed. Dracula? The young man was insane. Then she realized she was completely at the mercy of a psychopath. She felt his body tense slightly against her as her heartbeat skyrocketed.

"Your fear smells so good. I will enjoy drinking it," he murmured.

Again, she felt the points of his teeth – points? – tease the flesh of her throat. And then, as suddenly as he had appeared before, he was gone. Without his support, she stumbled backwards, falling to the ground. Trembling, she glanced around her. She found him standing across from her, hands held loosely behind his back. He brought out an antique pocket watch, complete with gold chain, and flicked it open.

"The time begins now." He snapped the watch shut. Pocketing it, his hand returned behind him.

For a moment, Candy could only stare at him.

"N-no. This...this isn't happening. This just isn't. It's a dream, that's all. Yeah, a dream."

"Indeed." His voice was soft, and predatory. The corner of his mouth rose in a tight secretive smile.

"You...you're not Dracula. He's a...a legend, a myth."

"_NO, HE WAS NOT_!" The stranger suddenly advanced at her, eyes blazing yellow. His lower jaw dropped impossibly low and she watched horrified as the canines elongated. She threw her arms over her head and cringed before his fury. Then, all was quiet.

Quivering, Candy raised her head. The young man was back where he started, adjusting the cuffs of his silk shirt. He flicked an imaginary spot of dust off. He glanced at her, eyebrow arched.

"Tick, tock, tick, tock."

Candy ran.

How long had it been? Candy's chest heaved, heartbeat raced. Dozens of tiny cuts covered her arms and legs. Had the hour passed? She had put a good distance between them...she hoped. But she did not know these woods. For all she could tell, she might be going in circles. She paused, putting her back against a tree and panting.

How much longer until that...thing...came after her?

As if to answer her question, an inhuman shriek filled the air. Candy jerked her head to look behind her. Raising from the trees, a bat-like form flew into the air. Except this bat was massive, about the size of a man. She gasped as realization struck her.

"No..."

She turned and bolted. Heedless of the underbrush that ripped her clothes and tore her flesh, she scrambled through the forest. She could no longer see the bat creature; the trees were too thick. Terrified, she stole a quick glance upwards. Her eyes darted left and right, trying to see everything. Keeping her head craned backwards, she darted through the trees...

...and off the cliff.

Candy threw her arms out wide, desperately grabbing for anything to stop her fall. Her hand brushed against a bush, but gravity claimed her before she could grasp it. Screaming, she plummeted. She watched as the forest ground flew upwards to her, impossibly fast.

Suddenly, a hand grabbed hers, yanking her up. Candy screamed as her shoulder dislocated, then screamed again as she caught her first glimpse of her rescuer.

It was hideous, some horrible mix between a man and a bat. Surely, it...he...was a demon. His powerful wings beat, keeping them aloft. Suddenly, he dived. Once again the ground rushed up to Candy, and this time she prayed it would take her. Anything to save her from this monster.

At the last moment, he unfurled his wings, breaking their momentum. The sudden movement pulled painfully at Candy's dislocated shoulder. Her shriek echoed through the night.

Unceremoniously, he dropped her to the ground before gently setting down next to her. She watched breathlessly as the hideous face and body of the demon melted away. Once again, the young man stood before her, dark silk fluttering against his frame and his hands – as always – clasped behind him.

"Now, now," he tsked at her, "one mustn't break the rules. You were not given the option of suicide."

Candy shook her head mutely. Clutching her injured shoulder, she began to tremble violently. The stranger closed his eyes, and cocked his head as if listening to music. He smiled slightly.

"I can hear it so clearly; the beautiful beat of you heart, pounding so fast now. Pumping its sweet nectar throughout your body. Exquisite."

She sobbed as he slowly approached her. Grasping her uninjured arm, he pulled her gently to her feet. He leaned close to her face, brushing her hair back. He stroked his cheek against hers, placing his lips next to her ear.

"My lady, I have won our little game," he whispered, his voice feather soft.

If the young man's grip had not been holding her upright, she would have collapsed. As it was, Candy could only shiver. She closed her eyes, tears running freely.

With his free hand, Candy felt him brush aside her hair. His fingertips traced her collarbone as he slid her shirt away from her neck. Eyes still squeezed shut, she whimpered. He caressed her collar with his fingers. Then paused. Unconsciously, Candy held her breath.

A burst of pain shot through her as his teeth plunged into her throat. Gasping, her eyes flew open. He began sucking deeply at the wound. Some blood escaped, and she felt a warm line trickle down into her blouse. Candy pushed at him frantically, but he held her in an iron grip. Gradually, her struggles lessened, the strength leached from her. Her arms fell limp to her sides, and she sagged in his grasp. She was only barely aware as the world dimmed.

Candy's eyes glazed over and her mouth fell slack. Quietly, she died.

Daknavar Dracula paced back and forth in a precise line. The only sign of his frustration showed in the tight clench of his hands behind his back. As he neared the end of his path, he pivoted abruptly, and retraced his exact steps.

The whore's corpse lay forgotten nearby, but her words burned in his mind.

_He's a...a legend, a myth._

His father, Count Vladislaus Dragulia – Count Dracula – a legend? Most assuredly. A myth? Absurd. Insulting. How dare she suggest his father, the most powerful vampire ever, had not even existed?

Pace. Pivot.

Had the humans truly forgotten the splendor, the glory, the horror, that had been Count Dracula? A mere fifty years had passed. Not long at all. How could the ignorant masses have forgotten so easily?

Pivot.

If only he was allowed to leave Austria. But Listad Shiro still refused his request. Daknavar was almost completely recovered from his father's death. He had regained virtually all his vampiric powers, most notably his shape changing ability. Although – he had not revealed to any others, not even his servant, Vladdamir – the pain of shifting nearly overwhelmed him every time.

Pivot.

It was time. He would convince Listad to release him. This insult to his father's memory would not be tolerated. Daknavar would reclaim what was his by birthright. He was the heir of Count Dracula. It was time to take up his father's mantle.

Pausing, Daknavar gazed thoughtfully at the moon.

Somewhere in Transylvania was his father's castle. That was where he would start. He would find Count Dracula's castle. And take brides, two or three, as befitted a lord of his stature. Then his true work would begin.

His eyes lowered until they rested on the distant village.

These humans had forgotten his father. Daknavar would remind them. Remind them why they feared the dark. Why they trembled in the shadows. And he would give them a name for their fear.

Dracula.

* * *

**[The Watcher]** The night was cold, very cold, and Maleus stood in the dark shadows with his cloak around him and his hood over his head. As he breathed, puffs of his icy breath played in the water molecules that floated in the atmosphere. A lone man strode down the cobble stone street in London as the full moon beamed on him. The lean man rushed to Maleus' side keeping his eyes hidden from the hat that rested on his head. Maleus turned his head to face the man, his crimson eyes with an unusual glow.

"Do you have the gold?" The man asked, his voice husky and raspy. His skin was pale, maybe from the cold, but Maleus noticed a ring of scarlet around his mouth.

"Yea, I have it. Do you have the potion?" he asked the merchant. The merchant dug into his pocket, pulling out a greenish liquid in a glass phial. A cork kept the liquid in tact. The emerald liquid had specs of silver that sparkled in the night.

"Silver nitrate and cyanide. Most lethal injection for a lycen." The pale man mentioned, handing the potion to Maleus. Maleus examined the potion before nodding and placing it in his pocket.

"So where's the gold? Come on man, I need the money!" he retorted. Maleus gave the man a dirty look, remaining silent as a snow fall. The man looked at Maleus, making his eyes visible. The yellow pupils glowed like lanterns in the darkness. Maleus finally reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet bag. He placed it in the pale man's hand and turned to walk away. He was able to take a few steps before he was interrupted.

"Hey! This is not gold. It's.." The man began to retch and his eyes swelled and flooded with tears. He threw the bag into the street and rocks of a powder substance rolled out.

"Grade A garlic my friend. Just the scent of it will disrupt your senses." Maleus muttered.

"You bastard!" The man yelled, throwing his hat on the ground and removing his jacket. Fangs poked out of his mouth as he hissed and began to charge for Maleus. The human stood still as he reached behind him and removed a midnight blade that as hidden in his cloak. The vampire, however, could not witness the act, fore the blade camouflaged in the night. Maleus turned around, swiping the invisible blade through the vampire's neck. The body of the vampire slammed into the ground as its head rolled down the street. The attack was quick and clean. Not a drip of blood licked the blade of Maleus. Maleus placed the blade back into its sheath on his back and continued walking down the street.

The sun rays beamed through the window of Maleus' hotel room. He sat in a wooden chair, relaxing from a night out. A knock on the door awakened a dosing off Maleus. He grabbed a dagger that he had placed by his foot and carefully walked to the wooden door.

"Mr. Maleus Valerious, I am a cardinal from the Order of Rome. It is urgent that I speak with you this moment." A voice stated. Maleus did not answer the voice nor did he open the door. He grabbed a gun and held it in his left hand as he put the dagger his pocket and opened the door. There, a man, most likely the age of fifty, dressed in red clothing and a red point hat stood. Maleus just stared at him cautiously as the man smiled in greeting.

"May I come in?" the cardinal asked. Maleus just moved out of the cardinal's pathway and closed the door as the man stepped in. Maleus kept his gun exposed so that the cardinal would get the message _'Don't try anything foolish'_.

"I have a message from Rome, for you Mr. Valerious." The cardinal said.

"Make it quick." Maleus answered.

"I think it would be better if we discussed this matter in the taxi. Grab all your weapons Mr. Valerious. We must leave at once." The cardinal informed. Maleus gave the man another cold stare but did listen. He grabbed his guns that shot silver stakes, a dagger, his cloak, the potion, and his midnight blade. The two men exited the room and came to a horse carriage that stood outside of the inn. Maleus entered the taxi, the cardinal following behind. The two sat across from each other, Maleus still carrying the same cautious and angry expression. The taxi began to ride to a destination unknown to Maleus. But he did not seem to care about it, fore he knew England like the back of his hand. The cardinal nodded and took in a deep breath.

"I believe you have heard the legend of Dracula. How he was killed by Gabriel Van Helsing fifty years ago. He was the only man who ever stood to Dracula and successfully destroyed him. But now we have another threat. Unknown to us, Dracula had a son. A son by the name of Daknavar Dracula. From the shadow of Rome, we have been able to discover that Daknavar has begun to realize his true powers and is threatening the European countries. Under the circumstances that you are one of the best monster slayers in England we will need you." Maleus remained silent, thinking about the opportunity.

"What is in it for me?" Maleus wondered. The cardinal smiled as he wet his lips to speak again.

"Under the circumstances of payment, we are willing to pay 80,000 pounds. I'm pretty sure this will please you. But only after we know Daknavar is destroyed." The cardinal noted. Maleus nodded and stretched out a hand to shake the cardinal's hand. In respect the cardinal did the same.

"You will also have a partner in this task. Van Helsing, the grandchild of the slayer of Dracula. I am pretty sure the two of you will get along just fine." The same angry expression returned to Maleus' face after hearing he would have a partner. But the payment kept him interested.

* * *

**[Bloodfeud]** His eyes snapped open as soon as the sun sank, awareness flowing instantly through him- the undead had no time for fatigue or idleness. The few hours of sleep he was allowed left him fully rejuvenated; he wondered that he needed sleep at all. He rolled off the straw pallet that served as a bed; only the noble dead slept in sarcophagi, not half-bred monsters such as himself, as his 'lord' often reminded him. The delicious dream left him bitter and drained the his already thin hope of its sustenance. Oh, what a wonderful dream Dracula's mutilated corpse before him flesh torn asunder limbs cracked and broken jutting out in unnatural places….  
"It was a dream, nothing more," he reminded himself crossly. "I am still here, he is still my master, and still I shall continue to serve." His tone was resentful and every word dripped with scorn. Tonight he would be roaming the city's streets hunting for suitable brides for Daknavar.  
"Pointless." He reflected bitterly to himself as he strapped on his weapons, preparing to leave. He stepped out unto the narrow hallway, skulking towards the main door.  
"Where are you going?" An icy voice snapped behind him. Freezing in mid-stride he turned about and bowed to the figure.  
"To continue my search for your brides, my lord." He replied trying to keep the irritation and frustration out of his voice. Daknavar calmed at this,  
"I see, there is no time for that now, night hours are growing shorter. There has been a change of plans; begin packing immediately, I shall expect everything ready by 9 O'clock." He bowed again and headed for his own room. Dracula cleared his throat meaningfully, forcing him to turn about and bow once more.  
"Forgive me, master, I wish to pack my things first." This drew a disapproving scowl from his lord before he quickly added, " I have far less to pack and shall be done in but a few moments. For I should not like to rush while packing your things and overlook any detail crucial or insignificant."  
Satisfied at last Daknavar nodded his approval and stalked off back the way he came. In truth he was already packed but there were a few things he needed from his room to "assist" him in packing for his master. He was careful in carrying the pouch containing his "instruments" as he headed towards his masters chambers, rooms that never ceased to amaze him. Stepping through the doors of ornate ebony and ivory wood, he moved near several trunks resting against the wall. He packed all of the usual things his master would require- everything- before loosening the strings of the pouch and withdrawing the item with his dagger carefully. Cautiously balancing it on the daggers tip he slid it into the trunk, probing around for the exact right place to put it. Vladd smiled a rare sneering smile as he found the spot he wanted, and slipped the holy artifact inside with artistic discreetness. He berated himself for sinking to such a low level of revenge- revenge he had not had for over a century he would savor it none the less. He did not expect it to be sweet only bitter and he knew that Daknavar would surely punish him for it. He did not care. He closed the trunk.


	3. Chapter 3

**[Dark Tala]** She paced the floor of St. Peter, arms crossed beneath her trench coat. Where in the hell was this Valerious? At this rate she didn't care if he was ancestor to the line her grandfather had worked with. He was just a lazy, no good…

The doors shut and Dia's head jerked up. But she hissed through her teeth in annoyance. It was just another cardinal. Where in the world could he be? Rosty had promised he'd be there that evening. As it was they'd be lucky to leave at dawn.

"I swear to god…" she had started to pace again. But the doors banged shut. Nadia's gaze was on the floor and as she stopped walking she looked up slowly to see who entered. A tall muscular young man stood there. His brown hair fell gently into his blood red eyes.

"More demon than human," she noted with slight amusement. "He's lucky I don't have a stake." She made sure to keep the stetson pulled low so he couldn't see her and her hair was tucked up under it. She smirked before approaching him.

"Van Helsing," Maleus spoke, voice almost harsh. Dia nodded, jerking her head to the side for him to follow. "I can tell we won't be talkin' much," he mused. She bit her tongue.

_Just a little longer,_ she thought. _It will be worth it to see his face._

They made their way back to the confessionals. She knelt there, making the sign of the cross. Maleus looked at her questioningly but then the secret door popped open to reveal the stairs going into the armory. "Nice," he mused, following Dia downstairs.

She spotted Rosty and went to his side. "He's here," she whispered in his ear. He turned to face Maleus and smiled a bit.

"We're glad you're here. I'm Cardinal Rosty and I see you've met Nadia."

Maleus' eyes widened and Dia smirked as she pulled off the stetson. Her ponytail dropped down her back and his jaw dropped. "You'll catch flies with that," she hinted and he closed it with a snap.

"I was told I'd be working with Van Helsing," he demanded of Rosty.

"And you are," he smiled. "This is Nadia Van Helsing, Gabriel's granddaughter. He taught her everything he knew and she's quite the killer if I do say so myself."

Dia smiled at him. He had never just come out and said it like that. It made her feel a bit more confident on this mission.

"But she's a girl!" Maleus argued. "I can't work with a partner as it is, and you want me to work with her!"

"Trust me sweetheart, it ain't a picnic for me either."

Rosty stepped in, holding up his hands when Maleus went to protest again. "You two are going after Dracula. You must be on your toes and work together." The pair glanced at each other skeptically. It would be interesting to say the least. "Nadia, you're in charge. Now get moving."

Rosty left them, staring at each other. Maleus glared at her with hate. The cardinal actually expected him to listen to this hunter? The very idea was almost laughable. Nadia just smirked at him. She'd show him a thing or two.

"Lets go Valerious," Dia groaned, having him follow through the armory to find Sep. "We're getting' armed and leaving… tonight."

"Let's get one thing strait," Maleus growled dangerously, grabbing her shoulders. He spun her around, his crimson eyes piercing into her. "You are not in charge of me. You can get that idea out of your pretty little mind right now."

Dia shrugged him off, glaring meaningfully at him. "We'll see about that," she muttered before taking off again.

Sep greeted her and then looked over Valerious. "Well, looks like you have your work cut out for you," he told Dia jokingly. She punched him in the arm and he rubbed it tenderly. "Ouch, jeez, only kidding."

"Just show him the weapons," she sighed, patting his back.

This made him smile and Sep scurried over to his work station. "Of course you'll have the standard silver stakes, crosses, and all that good stuff-"

"Crosses don't work on Dracula, isn't that right?" Maleus interrupted, trying to sound smart.

Nadia and Sep exchanged a glance before she started on him. "That was Dracula, and this is his son. We don't know what he's capable of. Besides, with his heir coming out of the woodwork he'll have followers. _They_most certainly aren't that strong."

Maleus appeared as though he was going to argue but Sep continued. "This is a fun one. It's your standard semi-auto but this puppy pumps out specialized bullets. These things are hollow silver, filled with a mixture of garlic and other poisons so on impact they explode into the body. We have arrows with the same thing."

"These are new," Sep smiled. He picked up a small black ball and placed it on the table. Pressing a button it started to click softly.

"What the fuck is that?" Maleus asked.

Just then the ball flashed open, sending a burst of UV light from it. The group unshielded their eyes and Maleus smirked. "Not bad."

"UV bombs," Dia told him. "These bad boys will come in handy."

"Of course," Sep spoke up, "you could have fun with this." He tossed Dia a pack of stakes.

"What do these do?"

"Glad you asked. They can be used by hand or loaded into the guns. Again, your standard hollow silver, but they inject the victim with a special blood solution that works against their own blood. Basically makes them explode into tiny little pieces.

"Oh, one more little toy. Not sure how well it will work. It hasn't been tested properly." Sep threw Dia a black band. "Pull it on your arm." She did and he adjusted it so the small box on it was faced down. "Push that little button under your wrist."

When she did a silver blade flew out and she smirked. "Nice, I like." She folded it back in and looked at the tools they would take. It was a good array and she was impressed at how hard Sep and the others had worked to upgrade this stuff.

She glanced at Maleus as he took up the weapons. He too seemed impressed, though he tried not to let it show. "Not that I need anymore weapons," he muttered.

"You will," Dia replied, shoving her half into a large sac. She threw one to him as well. "Let's get going Valerious. We have a lot of ground to cover."

The two silhouettes of horses and riders arrived in the darkened streets of Vaseria the next evening. The midnight horses slowed, clanging loudly on the cobblestone streets. Nadia pulled her stetson lower, peering at the few passersby.

"Manor Valerious should be up here a ways," she told Maleus. He looked at her like she was an idiot.

"Naw shit," he muttered, "I think I would know."

Nadia just glared at him, tapping her stallion's sides. Rio obeyed without trouble and proceeded into a graceful lope. Maleus growled low in his throat. He couldn't believe he was doing this, with a girl no less. He hit his mare's sides forcefully and Fate hurried to catch up.

The manor came into view and the pair slowed. Dia dismounted and approached the large lock on the rote-iron gate. She pulled out an old rusty key and Maleus looked at her questioningly.

"How the hell did you get a key to my family's home?" he demanded.

"The Order keeps one handy," Dia replied, pushing the gates open. Maleus got off as they lead the horses inside.

The pair un-tacked the horses, and left them in the small stable at the side of the mansion. They looked up at the old place before entering. "Well," Nadia mentioned, glancing around the dark and creepy halls. "Home sweet home."

* * *

**[ShadowDawn]** Daknavar Dracula surveyed the interior of Frankenstein Castle. Outside, his servant Vladdamir unloaded the pickup that carried his possessions. The driver's corpse lay sprawled on the ground nearby.

The old castle was in terrible disrepair. Since his father had left, it had been abandoned. The local humans were rightly superstitious of it. Tales of grave robbers, werewolves and vampires hung about it like the moldy curtains over its broken windows. Even the transients had avoided this place.

Scattering decades' worth of dried leaves and dirt, Navar strode through the entryway, hands held clasped behind him. Wooden furniture lay broken and rotting across the once grand foyer. The smell of mold hung thick in the air. He tightened his lips in disgust. The place was filthy. Most assuredly not worthy of him, not in its current state. Thankfully, this place was only temporary. As far as Navar was concerned, he could not find his father's castle fast enough.

The heir of Dracula looked at his once immaculate boots, now marred with dust and dirt. He sighed. It would take quite an effort to make this place suitable. Vladdamir would be busy.

As if summoned by the thought, his servant entered the castle hefting Daknavar's sarcophagus. He watched with narrowed eyes, ascertaining that the half-blood servant was treating it with all due respect. Finding no fault, Navar addressed the servant.

"My father converted one of the inner chambers for his private quarters. Find it, make it presentable, and take my belongings there. Unpack what you can find places for. See if there is any serviceable furniture left."

Vladdamir's lipped tightened, as his gaze shifted to the side.

"Is there a problem, _servant_?" Navar's eyes narrowed again.

"No, master. I will do as you ask. But it may take time for me to find Drac– Count Dracula's private rooms, much less clean them, search the _entire_castle for furniture, and unpack. I do not know if we have enough night left for all that." Vladd's jaw clenched. "I will gladly do all I can, of course. But I fear that I will only disappoint you." He spat the words out.

"Then I suggest you hurry," was Navar's scathing reply.

"Of course ... my lord." The half-blood turned and stormed out with his burden.

Navar's lip curled as he considered the retreating servant. Vladdamir was becoming quite impudent. Perhaps the time had come to remind him who was master here. He would have find a creative punishment for that one.

Putting the disgruntled half-blood from his mind, Daknavar returned his attention to exploring his temporary abode. He was about to journey further into the castle, when something caught his attention dangling from the ceiling. Quite a lot of 'something,' in fact. At regular intervals over the entire ceiling, streamers of some kind hung loosely. It appeared as if thick fabric had been hung there, and left to rot.

Daknavar paused, listening for Vladd. Normally, the servant moved as silently as any vampire, but he lugged the sarcophagus in its wooden crate. The wood creaked loudly. Satisfied that the half-blood was far away, Navar approached the wall. He would never attempt this if there was a chance of Vladd witnessing it.

He silently gathered himself, then placed his hand on the wall. Navar then set his other hand higher on the stone. Focused on his task, he lifted first one, then the other foot, placing them on the wall as if he were a rock climber. He climbed up to the ceiling.

Daknavar felt a moment of shame at his weakness. When Count Dracula had lived, Navar could casually stride up any surface with the same ease as his father or mother. After the infamous lord had perished, his son had been reduced to using all fours, climbing like a monkey. And even that took a great deal of concentration. Navar went to great lengths not to reveal this shame to his colleagues, or his servant.

He spider-climbed up to the handing ... things. Hanging upside down, still on all fours, Navar approached a clump. They were badly rotted, but definitely organic. Not cloth, like he had first assumed. There was an old scent of decayed not-quite-flesh. Concentrating on his three other limbs, lest he lose his grip on the ceiling, he reached out to the clump. It felt like mummified skin, but not. He tilted his head in confusion.

Examining it closely, Daknavar noted that it appeared like it was once honeycombed. Had it held something? The empty chambers had been the size of large melons. What were they? He noticed several metal wires attached to this, and the other clumps.

Navar almost lost his grip on the ceiling as sudden understanding struck him.

These were egg-sacks! These once held his brothers and sisters. Hundreds had been brought to life, only to die shortly after in his father's experiments to raise them.

Daknavar smiled grimly. That was the price of being born full vampire: death. He was only half-blooded, but he survived where these pure-bloods had failed.

Navar mourned the demise of his father, though he barely knew him. To a lesser degree, his mourned his mother, as well. But he celebrated the deaths of his siblings. If they had survived, if his father had succeeded, then Navar would have been nothing to the other vampires. Just some half-blood, no better than his servant Vladdamir. Perhaps he would have been enslaved to his own siblings. But with their death, he, Daknavar Dracula, was the one and only heir to Count Dracula. Those pure-bloods could rot in hell, and Daknavar would rejoice it.

Distracted, Daknavar almost did not hear the footsteps in time. He hung by all fours from the ceiling, engrossed in the rotting egg-sacks, when he heard the barest shuffle of a boot against stone. Startled, he let himself fall to the floor, gracefully turning to land on his feet. He _would not_allow Vladd to see him clinging like a monkey or insect to the stone, unable to support himself properly.

He quickly straightened as Vladdamir entered the room. Trying to cover his unease, he glanced away and adjusted the cuffs of his silk shirt. Navar stopped himself angrily. No, he was the heir of Count Vladislaus Dragulia. He did not advert his eyes from a servant.

Daknavar turned back to the half-blood, lips pressed into a thin line and eyes narrowed. Conscious of the grime on his hands, he clasped them behind him.

"_What_are you doing here? I told you to find my father's chamber and prepare it for me!"

Vladdamir glared at Navar for a moment, gritting his teeth.

"I am retrieving the rest of your belongings, so that I might properly prepare your quarters ... my lord." The words were courteous, but the tone was low and carefully controlled. Vladd bowed to his master, but Navar noticed the other's clenched hands.

"I do not care for your tone, _slave_," Daknavar spoke softly.

"My apologies, master. I forget my place." Vladd lowered himself to one knee before Navar.

Daknavar could not see his servant's face, bent as he was, but the tone showed humility. Considering, he paused. Behind him, he could still feel his hands, covered in dust and mold from his ungainly climb. He did not want Vladd to see his normally unsullied hands dirtied so. It would raise questions that he did not want the half-blood to consider. Best to end this encounter now.

"Why are you still here? Get my things! I will not tolerate any delays!" Daknavar spun around, deftly bringing his hands in front of him, and strode from the room. He was aware of Vladd standing there, watching him leave.

Once he was sure the half-blood could no longer see him, Navar pulled a handkerchief from an inner pocket. Wiping his hands, he continued investigating the castle.

It did not take much effort to find Dr. Frankenstein's laboratory. Daknavar strolled through the chamber, pausing repeatedly to examine various relics. Hard to imagine that a simple human had raised dead tissue back to life here. And then his father had attempted the same feat, with only partial success. It was beyond belief that a human could accomplish something that the illustrious Count Dracula himself could not.

A distant corner of his mind whispered to him that that was not the only time a mere human had bested his father. After all, the human Van Helsing had murdered him...

Daknavar gritted his teeth. How could that have happened? No human could kill Count Dracula. It was prophesied. And yet, afterwards many of the remaining covens had watched the murderer, and confirmed that Van Helsing was indeed merely human.

Navar felt a moment of pure contempt for the vampires who had simply observed the killer from a distance. None of them had sought revenge for his father's murder. Had Daknavar not been weakened to the point of death himself, he would have hunted that accursed human, and slaughtered him. But it had taken decades to recover and Van Helsing had perished in that time.

Lowering his head, he clenched his fists.

Van Helsing was dead. And Daknavar would be forever denied his revenge.

About an hour later, Daknavar came upon his father's old quarters. His servant had swept and tidied up. There were no windows in these chambers, so no rain nor leaves had intruded here. Most of the furniture was still serviceable. Old tapestries hung from the walls, their color faded from years of neglect. Frowning, Navar noticed dust clinging to the once fine material. Vladdamir had not cleaned them. Unacceptable.

He narrowed his eyes. It was past time to discuss certain matters with his servant.

But first, he would change his attire. In his exploration of the castle, he had disturbed decades' worth of dust and mold, some of which now clung to him. Daknavar was many things, but never sloppy in his appearance.

He approached the wardrobe, and noted with satisfaction that Vladdamir had at least unpacked, even if he could not be bothered to clean properly. Navar reached for a clean shirt and slacks. After changing, he brought out another pair of boots. He left the first pair out for Vladd to clean and polish. With a pearl pin, he deftly fastened a silk cravat around his neck.

Navar reached for a midnight blue dinner jacket. After all, he wanted to make a suitable impression on the ignorant humans living nearby. He briefly registered a slight weight from a sleeve, before an object fell from it. Instinctively, he grabbed it from the air.

Pain flared up his hand and arm as the silver object seared his flesh. Grimacing, he dropped it. As it landed with a clang on the stone floor, he stared in shock. It was a crucifix! How...? Snarling, Dakavar raised his gaze.

There was only one way that...thing...had come to be in his jacket.

"Vladdamir!"

Vladd could not help but grin as he heard his master's shriek. Dropping the task at hand, he made his way through the hallway, his smile growing. Even the stench of the castle and all disgust he now found in its maltreated manner could not staunch the malicious surge of satisfaction flowing through him as he climbed the stair.

Desperately, he stifled his pleasure, fighting to compose himself before entering. Satisfied, he opened the wooden door. Bowing low upon intrusion – more to hide his growing smirk than any show of respect or servitude – he forced himself to not think of his sated victory, but of the pain and humiliation in Austria.

Yet he could not hide the mischievous twinkle that now lit his mirror-like eyes, no matter how hard he tried.

Vladd rose and faced his master. Daknavar stood half-turned toward him, hands clasped behind him. His lord's features were carefully neutral, although Vladd noticed a slight tightness around the corners of his eyes and mouth. He knew that expression; the lord was teetering on the edge of his self-control.

The corner of Vladd's mouth twitched when he eyed the crucifix at Daknavar's feet.

Daknavar glared as his servant entered. The half-blood sauntered forward, seemingly unconcerned. Navar felt his hands clenched, and he forced them to relax.

"What...is..._that_?" he said, his voice low and deadly.

"It appears to be a crucifix, my lord," Vladdamir replied nonchalantly.

"_Insolent cur_!" Daknavar spun on him, eyes blazing yellow. He snarled at the servant, teeth elongating. Almost immediately, he calmed, adjusting his jacket as he forced himself to relax. Control, he must have control. It was unseemly to lose one's temper, especially to some half-breed servant. He was better than a common thug. And besides, punishments were far more creative when decided upon with a clear mind. He settled his gaze on the impudent slave. His voice was dangerously soft. "And exactly _how_did that thing get into my possessions?"

"Would you care for me to investigate this weird occurrence, my lord?" Vladd's mouth twitched, the corners upturned slightly. The half-blood's eyes glinted.

Anger surged within Daknavar, and he clenched his jaw. He forced it back down.

"Perhaps it is a sign from the late Count Dracula," Vladd continued.

Shocked, Daknavar did not notice Vladd's almost sneering tone. He winced at the mention of his father, at even the mere suggestion of the Count's disapproval. His father had been a paragon, one Navar knew he could never match. But to have a mere servant suggest...

Daknavar adverted his eyes, unwilling to let Vladdamir see his inner turmoil. Had he been fully human, he would have taken a steadying breath. As it was, he could only pause as he gathered himself. Composed, he turned back.

Vladd stood there, a trace of shame touching his eyes. He opened his mouth as if to say something, then paused. Instead, he lowered his gaze.

Navar's lips tightened. Was that pity he saw on the wretch's face? Pity! As if he, Daknavar Dracula, needed any sympathy from some half-blood! The very idea was insulting. He would not be mocked by the mongrel he allowed – no, honored – with the task of serving him. This affront would not be endured.

"I am ... most ... disappointed, whelp," Navar said, dangerously soft. Considering his servant, he stepped to the side, away from the crucifix. "Pick it up."

Vladdamir drew himself up, his face expressionless. He strode forward. As he bent down, his hand hovered a moment over the holy item. Navar could see the half-blood stiffen as he prepared himself. He then grasped it.

Instantly, the crucifix flared to life. Vladd's flesh blackened and shriveled as the blessed item seared him. Several seconds passed before the servant could no longer contain his scream at the excruciating pain. Daknavar allowed himself a moment of respect for the servant's endurance. The crucifix fell from Vladd's nerveless grasp. Panting, the half-blood fell to his knees, clutching his burnt hand.

Daknavar regarded him, until he was certain the servant had recovered enough to fully comprehend what he said next.

"You have forgotten your place, mongrel. You have forgotten who I am. I am Daknavar Thadius Dracula, sole heir to Vladislaus Dragulia, Count Dracula! You have forgotten that! Never do so again!" He paused. Vladdamir raised his pain-filled gaze up to his master. Sure of the servant's complete attention, Navar continued softly, "I did not give you permission to release the crucifix."

Vladdamir's eyes widened, but he quickly cleared all emotion from his face. Reaching with his uninjured hand, he grasped the holy item once more. Flames sprang up, eating greedily at the half-blood's flesh. He screamed.

Daknavar watched with mild curiosity as his servant writhed on the floor.

"Interesting," he said, not caring that Vladd was too consumed in agony to hear him. "What hurts more; the crucifix, or the silver it's made from?"

Vladdamir was half vampire, half werewolf. Navar wondered if the lycanthrope blood protected him from the bite of the holy artifact, and the vampire blood from the silver. Intriguing. He would investigate the matter sometime. Indeed, it would make for some interesting experiments. But not now. There were other matters to attend to.

"You may release it."

The silver crucifix fell with a clang. Vladd, near unconsciousness, huddled close by. His arm was scorched up to the shoulder, the sleeve now ashes on the floor.

"Kneel, cur, before your master."

It took Vladd several moments to recover enough to obey. Finally, he dragged himself to his knees.

"An important lesson has been learned this night. Remember it. And consider yourself fortunate that I took the time to teach it to you. I have far more important things to consider, than the actions of some whelp of a servant. Feel honored at my attention."

" ... Thank you, master." Vladd gritted his teeth, from either the pain or the humiliation. Navar did not care which.

"I do not want you to forget this lesson." Daknavar's eyes settled on the crucifix. "Hang it in whatever corner you claim as your own, as a reminder of this night. Now, go, and resume your duties. Start with these tapestries; they're dusty. I want them, and everything else in this room, spotless when I return. Oh, and polish my boots."

Daknavar turned his back on Vladd, striding from his chambers. He had spent too much time on the half-blood. There was still much to do.

* * *

**[Bloodfeud]** Often times hanging from the ceiling or even scaling it took such great concentration that he would be forced to close his eyes, and while completely the renovation of the keep all he could do was move slowly across and hope he did not fall. He had been attempting to continue cleaning the vast walls and ceilings of the castle but two nights after his incident with the crucifix, though his charred hands made it nearly impossible. He kept at it through daytime, Vladd did not wish to raise his master's ire once more, he had found that the consequences had changed since the last time he had needed a reminder of whom his master was. He removed one hand from the wall momentarily, the pain was excruciating, Vladdamir couldn't help but wince as he regarded it. Forcing himself to think of nothing but his perch, he couldn't suppress a sneer as he pictured himself clinging there, body pressed against the stone as a worm clings to a stem. Knowing with disdain that no matter how hard he tried, he would never be able to even spider crawl across the ceiling- much less support himself properly or with as much grace as his master and the other purebloods. This distraction cost him; the door slammed causing the bucket filled with filth and the mixture of bleach and lye he had pinned against the stone to fall splattering its contents across the floor he had just finished. Vladd followed a few seconds after, landing unceremoniously on his front, getting more grime on his already soaking clothes. Wincing as he realized Daknavar was watching him, and the filth had splashed over the usually immaculate boots and the cuffs of the pristine breeches, more work to do. Dracula looked down at these with a somewhat irritated glint in his dark eyes. Lifting himself to his knees he made a hurried apology,

"Forgive me, master; I was so engrossed in my task- the door- made me lose my concentration-"He was cut off by Daknavar's sharp gesture.

Vladd averted his eyes from his master's contemptuous gaze. He had acquired as of late the need and longing to gain his lord's approval, a phenomenon he did not understand. Why should he respect cruelty and despise the lack of concern his master so often displayed? The words had barely crossed his mind when Lord Daknavar spoke, instructing his servant as to his wishes,

"Clean that up and complete your task, after that see that this," He gestured to his boots, "is taken care of. I found the rooms in the south and west wings most displeasing, clean them again. Tomorrow night you may renew your search for my brides, I give you three weeks, failure is not acceptable. Nor is the condition in which you left my sarcophagi. See that you do not disappoint me again."

"Yes, my lord." He rose as his master strode out. Anger welled up inside him, both at himself and Dracula. Ashamed he berated himself for his clumsiness, then again for his concern. He finished re-cleaning the floor and small section of ceiling that remained quickly and efficiently. Vladd imagined what he must have looked like, kneeling there in the sludge, cringing like a small disobedient child. Was it fear that had made him act in such a manner? No, it was less than fear- although greater than respect. He searched for the word…ah recompense? No not quite. He had been trying to prove something. Trying to prove himself? Or not at all? Trying to prove his master wrong he resolved finally, that sounded probable. These ponderings plagued him as he once more climbed the stair to his master's chambers. There he found the boots in the unusual place by the wardrobe, the breeches folded in half nearby. It was apparent that Dracula had left hunting- the servant hadn't fed in days. A rat scurried about in the corner of the room, small and distasteful yet filled with life and juices. His fangs elongated at the mere thought. Just one bite… no. He looked down at the boots once more he sighed.

"I'm going to win. Win and shove it down that little pricks face and then im walking the hell out of here. Damn this world."


	4. Chapter 4

**[Dark Tala]** "Amazing," Dia murmured, looking around the study in the tower. Everything was just how Gabriel told her, it was all there. Just to be in the manor was like some dream coming to life. She couldn't believe all the things around her had really been there when her grandfather was fighting Dracula fifty years before.

She approached the map of Transylvania and looked it over. It was worn and old, covered with a thin layer of dust like most of the things in the old mansion. Nobody had used it since the death of Dracula. And most obviously the distant Valerious hadn't inhabited it either.

Nadia noticed the Latin inscription on the left side, the bottom completed by a torn off piece. The Order had resealed the door to Dracula's lair after his death. But why had they left the piece there for someone to open it easily?

Could she actually go there now? Dia's heart sped up at the thought. Roaming around Castle Dracula, the very place the final battle had taken place. She would give anything to see it. Quietly she read the inscription. "Deum lacessat ac inaum imbeat aperiri," she translated, "In the name of God, open this door."

She expected the map to disappear, revealing the mirror she had been told of. But nothing happened. Dia scratched her head. She hadn't thought to ask the cardinal what exactly they did to the door to Castle Dracula. "Well that helps me now," she sighed.

Someone cleared their throat behind her. Nadia turned to find Maleus. He had been down in the armory cleaning while she was up in the study. "Well I see the cleaning is going well," he mentioned, looking around at everything.

Dia hadn't dusted anything. She had been too busy gazing around. Maleus sighed in annoyance and picked up a nearby book, blowing the ages of filth off. "Are you always this thorough with your work?"

She glared at him, snatching the book away. "I said I'd take care of it. I'm assuming since you're bothering me the entire armory is finished."  
"Nope, I don't need that stuff," Maleus replied, starting to look around the tower himself. "I just wanted to take an inventory. After all this is my family's home. I want to know what's here."

Ignoring his presence Dia started to sift through things on the desk. She felt his gaze on her intently. As she looked up to catch him he jerked his head away, now turning to the map as well. Maleus studied it, the same thoughts running through his mind that Nadia had had.

The night was uneasily quiet in Vaseria. All that was heard was the steady breathing of the hunters. They glanced at each other as a loud clang sounded in the square. The full moon shown down brightly, illuminating the fountain where a large creature stood.

A werewolf, servant to the Dracula line, looked up at them with piercing red eyes. Was Daknavar able to control them like his father? Or were the werewolves free to kill as they pleased now? The hunters didn't know, and they didn't care.

Dia pulled the pistols from her trench coat and Maleus grabbed his blade. Before she could take her shot, Maleus ran at the large beast. The wolf growled and jumped above him, receiving a large gash across his side.

The wolf charged for Nadia and she sent bullets flying at him. He howled as they hit his chest, but none made their mark. He sent Dia flying into the wall of a near house. Maleus swung at the wolf, but he turned and stopped the blade with his paw.

"Valerious!" Dia hollered, aiming her guns behind him. Maleus jumped out of the way, just as another young werewolf lunged at him. He slammed into the other werewolf, sending them both flying across the cobblestone street.

A few shots rang out and Maleus ducked out of the way, grabbing his own guns. He spotted the young werewolf charging for Nadia and he aimed for him. Firing, it grazed the beasts arm. But before he could shoot again, Dia hit him square in the heart.

The werewolf went down and over top of him leapt the other, right at Dia. She rolled out of the way just as Maleus let his clip into his heart. The hollow silver stakes in the guns injected them with a counteractant to their own blood like Sep said they would.

The solution traveled through their bodies and the werewolves squirmed on the ground in pain. It started to burn them from the inside out. Soon the wolf was no longer and all that lay there was two men, one about 60 and the other barely 16.

Dia shook her head as she looked at the withered bodies, finally at peace. "You suppose they've been under the will of another?" Maleus asked.  
"I suppose," she answered.

Maleus was about to ask something else when she spun around, guns drawn. A tall lithe looking man stared out of the darkness. His eyes flashed red before he shifted and took off into the night. "Damn it," Dia breathed.

They didn't say anything for a moment, but then Nadia thought of something. "Most of the remaining vampires left this land when Dracula died right?" she asked.  
Maleus nodded, "They didn't feel protected. My father said that they've started to slowly come back in the last few years though and try and build up their lives again."

"So they've been tryin' to hide out right?"

"I suppose so," Maleus admitted.

"Then if that vampire was out tonight, Daknavar is back home."

Maleus nodded again, "We should-" Dia held up her hand for him to quiet. She looked over toward the corner, then back at him. They exchanged a knowing glance, pulling their guns slowly before jumping around the corner.

The trio let out a shriek and Nadia groaned. "Wait, wait, wait." She pushed Maleus' gun down and looked at the demons. "What are you three doing here?"

"We said we were going to help you," Dae protested.

"Well did you have to give me a damn heart attack!"

Dae, Haelus, and Mord sat in the comfortable sitting room of Manor Valerious. The three demons listened as Maleus and Nadia fought in the armory. They caught hints of the conversation, mainly "demon scum," and "damn rats."

"How the hell do you protect a bunch of demons!" Maleus demanded of her. "You're supposed to be _killing_ them not letting them feed on innocent people!"

"They're _not_evil!" Dia hissed. "They're informants! Everyone that stays in the Blue Room has my protection and they happen to live there!"

"So not only do you guard those three, but there are _more_! That's _great_! Just _wonderful_! I wonder what the Knights of the Holy Order would say to _that_ one!"

"They won't know a thing!" Nadia hissed, pulling a dagger and placing it at his throat. "Those are the closest things I have to friends, and they won't be harmed," she said more calmly. "They're here to help, and that's just what they'll do."

* * *

**[ShadowDawn]** "Mistress Illyana?"

"Ah, Jonathan. Hello, my sweet. How did the little werewolf hunt go?"

"The villagers had help. The two newcomers led the hunt, and killed two of your wolves."

"What is it, Jonathan? What aren't you telling me?"

"The newcomers. Their names are ... Van Helsing and Valerious."

Silence. Then melodious laughter filled the night.

"Wonderful! Oh, this is excellent. What fun we'll have!"

"Mistress? There was a vampire there. He left. The one called Van Helsing said that if the vampires were resurfacing, then Daknavar had returned home."

Silence again.

"So. My brother has returned, has he? The mighty Daknavar, 'heir' to Count Dracula, has come to claim our father's throne? Hmmm, we can make this work for us. Yes. Let the villagers and newcomers waste their energies hunting my brother. It should be interesting. In fact, I'll send more werewolves out. They'll be convinced my 'dear little' brother is responsible, and hunt him. When he's properly softened, we should have no difficulties removing him and any servants he has."

"Of course, mistress."

"And Jonathan? I'm hungry..."

Raina glanced around the shadowy forest, breath coming in gasps. Moonlight fell through leaves, painting the trees and ground in blue-white patches. Distant crickets sang their night songs.

How...? Where...?

She had been hurrying through the village. The western sky had held its last remnants of sunlight, a deep line of red on the horizon, fading to blue. Transylvanians learned at a young age to fear the night. In other countries, that was considered superstitious. Here, it was survival.

As she had sped past locked buildings, a stranger stepped from the shadows and she had shot him a glance. Then, suddenly, she found herself here. By the position of the moon, she figured an hour had passed since then.

A howl cut through the night. Raina jumped and put her hand to her heart.

"Greetings."

She stifled a scream, spinning around. The young man she had seen in the village stood there, hands clasped behind him. His tailored – if old fashioned – suit was incongruous in the Transylvanian wilds. A slight breeze pulled a few strands of pitch black hair from his ponytail. His flesh glowed in the scattered moonlight, pale as a corpse. The corners of his mouth curved up a fraction, but otherwise no emotion graced his face.

"What's going on here?" Raina tried to hide the tremor in her voice, with only partial success.

"A hunt, my lady."

"The werewolf hunt? They've already left, set up their traps. The newcomers went too. You've missed them." She glanced around again. "And this isn't where they went. They're on the other side of the village..." Her voice faded as she took in his secretive smile.

"Which is precisely why we are here."

Raina studied his finely formed face, searching for clues of his intent. A predatory glint shown in his eyes, and with feline grace he began circling her, gaze still locked with her's. A shiver coursed through her.

"What ... exactly ... is being hunted?"

"You."

Raina forced herself to take slow, even breaths. The stranger thought to scare her? Well, he was in for a shock. Since her father had died, she'd hunted for her family. And while she had never fought a man, handling predators was nothing new to her. Besides, she was Transylvanian. Her people were used to defending themselves.

She broke eye contact, glancing about the small clearing. Suddenly bending down, she scooped up a hefty stick. Planting her feet firmly, she spun to face ... nothing. The stranger was gone.

Raina turned a complete circle, still not seeing the man. She shook her head. He couldn't have disappeared. It wasn't possible. People didn't simply vanish. Well, not since ...

Her makeshift club jerked from her grasp. She pivoted. The man stood calmly behind her, holding the stick up in a loose one-handed grip. He regarded the stick with a lazy curiosity. Glancing back at her, he raised an eyebrow.

"My, you're a fiery one, aren't you? This should be most entertaining."

Raina studied him, taking in every detail: the raven hair, pale skin, and noble bearing. She shook her head, eyes wide.

"No ... you can't ... he died ... Dracula ..."

The stranger's eyes widened then relaxed, a tight smile appearing. His posture straightened even more, a feat Raina would not have thought possible, and he raised his chin.

"I am Daknavar Thadius Dracula, sole heir to Vladislaus Dragulia, known to you as Count Dracula. I have returned home."

Raina's jaw fell open, breath coming hard. She instinctively grabbed for her crucifix, only to find it missing. Her hand crept up and covered her gaping mouth. Unseeing, her gaze fell to the leaf-strewn ground. Dracula had an heir? He was here?

And at the same time, two strangers had recently come to Vaseria. Even more shocking, one of the newcomers went by the name Van Helsing. She nibbled the corner of her lip. What did all this mean?

Raising her head again, she realized that she had more urgent matters, mainly surviving the night.

"Are you ready for our little game, my lady?"

"G-game? You said ... it was a h-hunt?"

He shrugged. "Semantics."

"No," she shook her head. "In a game, any player can win. In a h-hunt, there's only predator and prey."

"My, you _are_entertaining, aren't you? And quite correct, too. Very well, my lady." He bowed from his waist, one arm bent behind him, the other in front. Straightening, he clasped his hands at his back. "I amend my earlier statement. This is not a hunt, but instead, a game. The rules are simple. Your objective is to leave the forest. You will have exactly one hour 'head start,' as they say. At the end of that hour, I will come for you. At that point, you will be my prey. If you exit the forest at any time, the game ends, and you win. If I catch you in the forest, however, you are mine."

"I get out of the forest, I'm free? You won't hurt me?"

"Correct, my lady."

"Your word?"

"Also correct, my lady."

"How do I know you won't have someone else kill me?"

The vampire pursed his lips, cocking his head. "Your entertainment value is starting to wear thin. But, very well, my lady. You have my word that _if_you can escape these woods, you shall return to your home, completely safe and unharmed in any way. Furthermore, neither I nor any of mine, will take any action against you for the remainder of the night. Is that satisfactory?"

His soft voice held the slightest touch of a threat.

Raina studied his narrowed eyes, and the challenge there. She nodded, still not liking her odds, but smart enough not to push the point. After all, if she protested, he might dispense with his 'game,' and kill her on the spot. Any chance, however slim, was better than death.

"Thank you, my lord."

She didn't mean it, of course, but she decided to play along with his 'cultured' manner. Annoying him would get her nowhere, except a shallow grave, if that. Remembering his earlier bow, completely proper and antiquated, she curtsied.

His stiff posture relaxed, and his face melted back to its previous nonchalance. He reached into his jacket pocket, and removed a gold watch, complete with chain. He flicked it open.

"My lady? Your hour starts ... now."

Forcing herself to remain calm, Raina removed her layered skirts, leaving on the long underwear beneath. She went to the highest tree, and climbed. Every instinct screamed at her to run away from this Daknavar creature, but she pushed them down. Control, she had to stay in control here. Think her way out. If she panicked – and she desperately wanted to – she would die.

Above the other treetops, she took her bearings. She was well more than an hour away from the village. But she didn't have to make Vaseria, just out of the forest. All these years of hunting for her family repaid her. She knew this land. South was her best bet. In daylight, she could cover the distance in under an hour. At night...? She didn't know.

Aware of the vampire still watching her, Raina made a point of looking towards the village. Let him think she was heading there. Maybe she could buy the extra time she needed to escape. It was a plan, at any rate. She climbed down.

Daknavar still stood in the small clearing, watching her with a slight smile. Raina ignored him. Retrieving her skirts, she draped them over her arm and jogged towards the village.

About ten minutes later, she came to a swift moving stream. Searching her memory, she recalled this one joined the main river running beneath Castle Frankenstein. But it headed in the general direction of Vaseria, as well. She glanced around, finding a fallen branch. Tying her white underskirt to it, she set it in the currant, pleased at how quickly the water swept it away. Vampires flew, and the white would show up clearly in the full moon. She could only hope Daknavar would spot it.

Raina turned, heading for a game trail she knew would take her south.


	5. Chapter 5

**[ShadowDawn]** The hour was almost up. And she was still deep in the forest. The trees hid the moon from her, making it impossible to guess how much time was left. Was this even the right game trail? What if this was the one that curved west? That one ran through a rocky clearing and the trees thinned. She'd be visible from above. The night shadows limited her sight, and she didn't dare climb another tree. _He_might see her.

Raina cursed herself for the time wasted at the stream. Forced to travel more slowly than she'd like – she couldn't afford to fall or twist her ankle – she needed all the time she could get. How long had she stayed there, messing with the skirt and branch? It'd probably gotten moored after a few hundred feet anyway. Washed ashore, under a bush or rock, and he'd never see it. Minutes were gold right now, and she had thrown those away.

She shook her head, forcing her desperation down. What was done, was done. She had to stay focused.

Just then, a monstrous shriek filled the air. Raina started. Her time was up.

Again, she fought back the urge to bolt. Gazing up, she could not see anything through the thick branches. But that worked in her favor too. Taking her top skirt, a dark purple fabric, she threw it over her head and shoulders like a cloak. It barely reached her waist, but from above, it should hide her white clothes and pale flesh. She hurried on as fast as she dared.

Without seeing the moon or stars, it was impossible to tell how much time had passed, but Raina guessed she traveled for another half an hour. The occasional howl broke the night's silence, but otherwise everything was still. Acutely aware of every noise, however slight, she made, Raina expected the vampire to drop down on her at any moment. Surely the entire forest could hear her stumbling about.

Ahead, she noticed the trees thinning. Rocks of every size strewn the ground. Raina closed her eyes, feeling the hot tears spring up. This was the wrong trail. She was now heading more west, than south. And the rocky area, dangerous during the day, was deadly at night. If she left the trail, she could slip on the rocks, breaking her neck. She could either backtrack, heading back into the forest, or chance crossing the more open clearing. Even with her dark skirt, she'd be clearly visible from above.

And still, she heard no sound from her stalker.

Chewing her lip, she decided. Raina crept forward, sticking to the trees. She studied the game trail, noting every uneven step and loose stone. The moon shone freely on the clearing, bright to her eyes, so used to the shady forest depths. About twenty feet in, a large boulder cast a shadow over the trail. With a furtive glance at the heavens, she sprinted for the shadowed area.

Once there, she skidded to a stop panting. Raina expected Dracula's heir to drop down on top her, teeth ripping for her throat, but nothing happened. Her gaze darting everywhere, ears straining, she frantically searched for some sign she'd been spotted. The night remained still.

She released a breath she had not realized she was holding. Hands trembling, she scrutinized the path ahead of her to the next sheltered spot, again memorizing every obstacle in the way. In this manner, she made her way across several hundred feet spanning the clearing.

The trees on this side were much thinner than before. The same moonlight that aided her, lighting her way, would also betray her. Her long underwear, while covered in dirt now, was still white. And if she covered her legs with the skirt, her equally white top would show. Not to mention her fair hair and skin. Raina began to jog, going just as fast as she could without risking injury.

And then he attacked her.

Talons seized at her from above. Only Raina's instincts saved her. She threw her arm up – firmly clutching the skirt – as he grasped at her. Pulling his catch back, he held mostly fabric. His talons sliced flesh as her arm slipped free.

Forsaking all caution, she sped on. Raina cut close to the trees. She could hear his wings beating. He would have trouble maneuvering through the trunks. But she dare not glance back.

The sound of wings vanished. Daknavar had abandoned the aerial pursuit.

Unable to stop herself, Raina glanced over her shoulder. Her foot slipped from under her. A second later, her breath exploded from her as her chest landed hard on the ground. Her momentum carried her forward. She rolled down a slope. Loose rocks cut into her and brambles snagged her skin and hair.

A large rock struck her side, halting her tumble. Fiery pain shot through her. Raina curled herself into a ball, gasping. Invisible bands clenched around her chest. She couldn't breathe. Mouth gaping open, she coughed, desperate for air.

"Damn..."

The cultured voice roused her from her agony. Dracula's heir! He was close. She had to run! Raina pulled herself to her knees, ignoring the stabbing pain in her ribs.

"Oh, don't bother getting up. It's rather pointless now. I can't say I'm not a little disappointed, my lady."

Raina squeezed her eyes shut as she lay her head on the ground. It was over. She'd tried, she'd really tried...

There was a moment of silence.

"You haven't looked around yet, have you, my lady?" Daknavar's voice held an odd mixture of amusement and annoyance.

Raina raised her head, glancing around. She hunched at the base of a small, tree covered hill. Around her, the pale moonlight illuminated wild grass bending in the night breeze. Grass? Not trees? But that meant...

"Yes, you're out of the forest."

She glanced at him in disbelief. Dracula's heir stood a few feet away, hands clasped lightly behind him. He still wore his outdated, tailored suit, complete with cravat and pin. She saw no sign of wings. The corner of his mouth upturned in an annoyed smile. He shrugged.

"I was right about one thing. You were quite entertaining. That trick with your skirt and the branch? Very inventive, I must say."

"That worked?"

Daknavar gaze slipped aside, and his lips tightened. He sighed through his nostrils. Raina wondered how long he had chased the decoy, but didn't have the nerve to ask. The vampire returned his eyes to her as she pulled herself to her feet. With shallow breaths, she hugged her bruised ribs.

"As I was saying, my lady, you proved yourself most entertaining. I would have enjoyed it more if you had _not_fallen out of the forest, of course. I always build up quite an appetite during these games. And I must admit I feel somewhat cheated. You did not, after all, leave the forest of your own accord. Rather, you tumble out, quite by accident I might add. Ah well, it does not matter."

"I ... I'm free?"

"Unfortunately, yes. That was our agreement." His lips quirked to one side, and he cocked his head. He shrugged again. Dracula's heir opened his mouth to continue, but a long howl interrupted him.

Already on edge, Raina jumped. Pain shot through her side at the sudden movement. Ignoring it, she jerked her head about. She couldn't see the source, but it sounded like a large dog ... or a wolf. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daknavar glance up the slope.

"It's a werewolf. Probably attracted by your scent. It'll be here in a few minutes. You might want to be on your way by then, my lady." The vampire sounded bored.

"You're not seriously considering letting her leave, are you?"

Raina screamed. A moment ago, she and Dracula's heir had been alone. Now, apparently from thin air, another man had joined them. The newcomer stood a few feet further away. His face was scarred – one over his right eye and two forming an 'x' on his left cheek – and his ashen skin glowed in the pale light, similar to Daknavar's. Another vampire? He ignored her, his attention completely on the other vampire.

"My lord, she knows of your presence!"

"And now she knows of yours, as well." A hint of threat was audible. Raina glanced back to Daknavar. He still stood at ease, hands behind his back. But she noticed the narrowed eyes, and his shoulders had stiffened. He continued, voice soft as velvet. "Aren't you supposed to be doing something?"

"They've finished their werewolf hunt. They didn't even leave the village. There were two exceptional fighters with them. Actually, they did all the fighting. And they took down two wolves. Newcomers to the village, I think."

Daknavar turned to her. "Do you know anything about the two of which he speaks?"

"Ah ... well, they just came to town ... but I've never spoken with them ..." Technically, that was true. She knew their names – with names like Van Helsing and Valerious, everyone knew of them – but she had never actually spoken with them. She hoped the vampires would see her hesitation as simple fear of their presence. She mentally crossed her fingers. The last person she wanted to know about the visitors was the heir of Dracula.

Daknavar considered her for a moment, then turned back to the scarred vampire.

"Were you seen?"

The newcomer hesitated, glancing aside. "_I_was not seen, my lord."

"But...?"

"There was another vampire in the village. The two warriors saw him, before he flew away."

"Did you follow him?"

"No, my lord. He headed the opposite way from my hiding spot. I would have been seen." The newcomer bowed, watching the other closely. Raina was glad Dracula's heir's cold glare was not aimed her direction. "You gave very specific instructions _not_to be seen, my lord."

"Pointless now, that this other vampire has revealed himself! I would have very much appreciated knowing who he was, and where he went! Now the villagers know vampires have returned."

Raina shifted her weight from foot to foot when the new vampire's gaze slid to her. He glanced from her to his master and back, expression incredulous.

"My lord, if you don't want witnesses...?"

"I gave my word."

"That's stupid!" The newcomer winced the moment the words left his mouth.

Raina held her breath, watching Daknavar narrow his eyes. The new vampire fell down on one knee, head down.

"Master, please accept my apologies. I meant no disrespect."

"Truly. I was unaware there was a respectful use for the word 'stupid.'" A terse moment of silence filled the night. Raina felt a stab of pity for the newcomer, but she knew better than to interrupt. Instead, she inched backwards a few steps. Both vampires ignored her. Dracula's heir let the silence hang a second longer, before he broke it. "Perhaps you need another reminder of who is master here?"

The words were civil and polite, the tone was anything but. The new vampire flinched, and fingered his palms.

"No, master. I remember my place."

Daknavar contemplated the scarred vampire kneeling before him. When he spoke, his voice remained soft and controlled but Raina heard a trace of steel under the surface.

"Listen to me, servant. Any common criminal can make a promise, and break it. I am no mere street thug, no simple outlaw. I am nobility! I am above such pettiness. If I give my word, I will keep it. Is that completely understood?"

"Yes, master. Please forgive me. I spoke out of turn."

Daknavar glared at the kneeling vampire, neither moving nor speaking. A low growl intruded on the tense scene.

Raina jumped yet again. She managed not to scream, and felt a minor sense of accomplishment for that. In the deep shadows of the trees, she noticed a large shape stalking closer to them. Moonlight glinted off shaggy fur and the points of sharp teeth. She guessed it was a hundred feet up the slope. Still hugging her bruised ribs, she held still, not daring to move. She noticed Dracula's heir glance over at the werewolf, then at her.

"You should have left when I said, my lady. Oh well." His voice returned to its normal nonchalance. He shrugged.

"You said you and your servants wouldn't harm me..."

"Correct, but that one is not mine."

The growl came again. Breathing fast, Raina stared at the looming shape as it inched forward. Smelling her fear, it turned toward her. She shook her head. No, this wasn't happening. She'd survived the heir of Count Dracula hunting her, and now some werewolf was going to kill her. It wasn't fair. After everything, now it was really over. That damn vampire! She'd beaten him at his own game, and he'd promised her that she would be safe...

Eyes widening, she turned to Daknavar. "You swore I'd be safe. You gave me your word."

"I was inferring that you would be safe from myself and my servant, my lady. The werewolf, as I said, is not mine." A distant part of Raina's mind noticed the use of the singular 'servant,' not 'servants,' as if Dracula's heir only had the one. Interesting, but hardly useful to her now.

"That's not what you said. You promised that I'd get home 'completely safe and unharmed.' You swore it!" Even as she spoke, she flicked her eyes between the vampire and creeping werewolf, now fifty feet away.

Daknavar blinked once, gazing at her. His brow furrowed, eyes sliding to the side as he thought back. A moment later, he closed his eyes and his shoulders slumped. A sigh escaped his clenched jaw.

Behind his master, Raina noticed the other smirk. The scarred vampire's shoulders quivered with suppressed laughter. Daknavar must have suspected his servant's reaction, for he turned abruptly. However, the newcomer had already wiped all mirth from his face. Raina briefly wondered how much practice it took to clear his expression so quickly.

Dracula's heir regarded his servant with narrow eyes. "Attend to your duties."

The scarred one bowed, then shifted his form to that of a winged demon-like creature. Raina shivered, realizing Daknavar had hunted, and almost caught, her in that form. She breathed a silent prayer of thanks that she had not seen him that way.

Raina turned away from the winged monstrosity, only to find the werewolf stalking her a mere twenty feet away. Gasping, she stumbled back. She instinctively ducked as the scarred vampire launched himself into the air behind her. Eyes wide, she turned back the Daknavar.

But the well-dressed vampire ignored both her and the encroaching werewolf. Instead, he watched his servant leave. Raina swore she saw some of the tension leak out of his shoulders when the other vampire disappeared from sight. She didn't understand, and didn't care. Her eyes darted back to the wolf. It crouched close to the ground, back legs twitching as it prepared to leap. Its eyes never left her.

"Well? Are you going to do something?"

Daknavar glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. He sighed. "I suppose I must." His gaze shifted to the werewolf. "You. Stop."

The wolf blinked, then shook itself, whining. Its mangy hands clutched its head, glaring at him between its fingers. Angling away from the vampire, it took another halting step towards her. Daknavar narrowed his eyes.

"I said _stop_. You will obey. Now."

A low growl emerged from its throat. It skirted around him, eyeing him warily.

"Do something!"

"I..." Daknavar glanced at his hands, then at her. He wore an almost comical expression of confusion. Shaking his head, he turned back to the wolf. His face hardened. He took an angry step forward, moving to intercede between them.

"Dracula could control werewolves! Can't you?"

"Shut. Up."

Daknavar placed himself in front of Raina. The werewolf crouched low, but held its ground.

"Do you have any silver?" He turned his head slightly toward her, keeping his gaze on the wolf.

"I had a silver crucifix, but it seems to have magically disappeared sometime during my trip to the forest."

"Ah. I left it in the alley I was waiting in. I wasn't about to leave you with a weapon. Nor was I going to fly you all the way to the clearing with that _thing_around your neck." He spoke the word 'thing' with the same revulsion most people reserved for maggots.

Daknavar fiddled with the front of his jacket. Behind him, Raina could not see what he was doing. A moment later, he pulled the cravat pin out. The moonlight reflected off its silver length.

"You're not serious." Raina glanced from his profile to the pin, then to the werewolf. She shook her head. "You don't have any real weapons?"

"You forget, my lady, _I_am the weapon. However, silver is more useful against werewolves than brute strength. I have some daggers, but they are not silver. So, it becomes a choice between this, or the cufflinks. Or simply ripping it apart like some sort of savage."

The werewolf circled them, trying to get around Daknavar. Raina found herself inching in close behind the vampire. He sighed.

"My lady, if he pounces, I will duck aside. Do you really want to be right there, in the path of a leaping werewolf?"

"Where should I ...?"

"Further away from us? Out of its threat range, perhaps?"

She stumbled backwards, never taking her eyes off the wolf. Ears perking up as it saw her flee, it moved to the side. Daknavar easily paced the wolf, always between it and her. It growled.

Without warning, it leapt at him. He took a casual step to the left, right hand passing in front of the wolf's face. It fell, shrieking and clawing at its right eye. Raina covered her ears against its screaming. Still standing to the side, Daknavar regarded it with a bored expression, hands behind him. She did not see the cravat pin anywhere. Gasping, Raina stared at the wolf with fresh understanding.

It writhed, digging at its eye as the silver ate into its brain. Several moments later, the werewolf stilled, then the coarse hair sloughed off. A ragged human man lay dead on the ground. A bloody hole gaped where his right eye should have been. Daknavar approached the corpse. Raina adverted her eyes as he bent to retrieve the cravat pin. Her stomach turned.

Desperate for anything to take her mind off the vampire digging into the gory socket, she remembered his frustration earlier.

"Um, why didn't it ... _he_... why didn't he, uh, obey you? You know, when you told him to stop?" Was she really hearing that wet noise, or was her imagination playing tricks with her? She shuddered.

Daknavar did not respond for several moments. Raina wished she could see his face – to know if he was ignoring her, or merely thinking of an answer – but nothing on this world would make her turn around while he did _that_. She thought she heard a faint sigh.

"It was already being controlled, my lady."

"By what?" She forced down the urge to face him. There was something else out there that could control werewolves? And even more frightening, that something was stronger than the heir of Count Dracula?

"That, my lady, is the question. You can turn around. I'm done. Now, shall we get you home, 'completely safe and unharmed?'" She heard the sarcasm hidden in the otherwise polite words.

Raina turned back to him, trying to ignore the pin he held. Daknavar had taken a scrap of cloth off the body and wiped various fluids from the pin. She gulped.

"So, um, what now?"

"Were you not listening, my lady? Now, we take you home."

"How...?"

"The same way I brought you here. We fly."

"Oh, hell no."

"Really? Do I understand that you are refusing my aid? Am I, then, freed from my promise to keep you safe?"

Raina shivered at the cold gleam in his eyes. Eyes wide, she shook her head. "No, no, no. Flying's okay."

"As you wish, my lady."

With her fear of heights, the flight to Vaseria was pure torture for Raina. Daknavar had offered to bespell her again, so the trip would seem to pass in the blink of an eye. But the thought of knowingly submitting to his control terrified her. Instead, she kept her eyes squeezed shut and clung around the vampire's neck.

After a short eternity, Daknavar landed abruptly, jarring her. Trembling, she refused to open her eyes or release him. Part of her whispered that this was just a trick, another 'game' of his. If she opened her eyes, she'd be back in that first clearing again, she'd have one hour to escape...

Under her arms, she felt his shoulder muscles contract, shrinking in on themselves, reforming to his human size. Still refusing to look, she felt the smooth fabric of his tailored suit reappear. She heard him sigh.

"If I'm not allowed to bite you, then I would very much appreciate it if you would _not_cling to me, my lady."

Raina jerked away from him, eyes flying open. Blushing, she stumbled a few steps back. She glanced around, relieved to see the outskirts of Vaseria. She had told him the general area of her home, and he had brought her exactly where she said to. Tears formed in her eyes, but she blinked them back.

She was home.

Raina took a eager step forward, then paused. She turned back to Daknavar.

"Not to be rude, but I know the rules. You are _not_invited inside my home."

He surprised her by laughing. For the first time, he seemed genuinely amused. "With all due respect, my lady, I've had quite enough of your company. You will forgive me if I have no desire to prolong this encounter."

"Oh."

"So. Since you will not tell me the exact location of your home, is this," he gestured around them with one hand, "close enough that you hold my promise fulfilled, my lady?"

"Yes," Raina paused, considering the well groomed vampire, "...thank you."

Daknavar raised an eyebrow. "For what, my lady? For kidnapping you, and wanting to bleed you?"

"No. For keeping your promise. I didn't expect that."

"As I said earlier, I honor my word."

"You told your servant that. But once he was gone, you could have eaten me and he would never have known. I thought that's what you were going to do. With me dead, no one would know."

"I would know, my lady," he answered softly.

"Still ... thank you."

"You are welcome, my lady." Daknavar bowed formally to her. "Good evening to you."

Raina blinked, and he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**[ShadowDawn]**

_(Kudos to __**Dark**__** Tala** and **Bloodfeud **for writing the rest of this addition and letting me add it... after playing with it a bit.)_

The sun rose, its beams slanting down onto the village below. Vladdamir paced through the shadows, avoiding the sun out of habit. It did not burn him, as it would full blooded vampires. However, serving Daknavar, he was simply accustomed to working in the darkness. The thought of his 'master' brought a snarl to his mouth.

The previous night, Navar had humiliated him in front of the human woman, berating him. At least it had remained verbal. But still, treated in such a manner before human fodder? Fodder Navar had allowed to survive. Not just survive, but also protected by him!

Vladd's grimace melted into a smile, then a chuckle. Soon he bent over with laughter at his so-called master's expense. It was not often Navar slipped up, but he surely had last night. The look on Navar's oh-so-noble face had made up for any verbal abuse. The 'mighty heir of Dracula' forced to protect some human wench. It was great. He would treasure that image forever.

Served Daknavar right, for all his damn 'honor' and 'nobility.' Who ever heard of a vampire honoring their promises? Not even Dracula, who Navar tried so hard to emulate, had done that. It was pure stupidity.

Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, he shook his head. He still had to learn more about those two newcomers. His 'illustrious master' commanded it.

He worked his way to the center of Vaseria. There, where the werewolves had attacked last night, he caught a glimpse of an attractive woman leaning against the fountain. The villagers too glanced at her. Studying her clothing, he realized with a start that she was one of the warriors from last night. With her hat on and hair up, he'd assumed she was a man. But there was no mistaking her.

As he watched, she glanced over at a man resting against the inn wall. He recognized the other stranger. When her gaze fell on him, the second hunter averted his eyes, looking instead at a young village woman walking by. After a moment, Vladd noticed the man's shoulders lift in a sigh. He joined his comrade at the fountain. Vladd's acute hearing had no difficulty picking their quite conversation from the background noise of the villagers and fountain.

"Look, I don't like the atmosphere here. Everyone's staring at us. They know. We can't have that." The man crossed his arms as he regarded the female.

"If they know, then maybe it'll bring Daknavar out of hiding."

Vladd raised an eyebrow at hearing his master's name.

"You're just..." The man shook his head, then turned and stalked off. He entered the inn. Vladdamir smiled at the empty doorway, then turned his attention to the woman. This was becoming boring. Perhaps he could liven things up.

He left the alley and approached her.

Dia pulled her knees up, resting her head on them. It had been an exhausting night. First the werewolves – which she actually enjoyed, and was not complaining about – and then the missing girl. That had been a long, tedious, and pointless search.

Shortly after they had killed the two werewolves, word reached them that a young woman named Raina had never returned home. She had been seen leaving the smithy, but nothing after that. At first, Dia had considered the possibility of another werewolf. But they were noisy when they killed. Well, at the very least, their prey usually were. And searching the path from the smithy to the woman's home had revealed no sign of struggle or, more telling, blood. It was as if the woman had truly vanished.

A more thorough search had discovered a silver crucifix in an alley, with its chain still intact. Dia spoke with Raina's crippled mother, and learned that it belonged to the missing woman. At this point, Dia became increasingly concerned.

Werewolves did not snatch their victims off the street, leaving no evidence. And they certainly didn't take the time to remove a silver necklace _without breaking the chain_. But a vampire would.

Dia honestly believed the girl had died, but couldn't bring herself to tell the mother that. So, she and Maleus had dutifully searched the village and surrounding forest. And, predictably, found nothing. Just before sunrise, they returned, determined to break the news to the heartbroken mother.

But the mother had greeted them with a jubilant smile. Raina had returned not twenty minutes before. Exhausted, the girl had gone straight to bed. No amount of reasoning, bribing or veiled threats could convince her mother to let them disturb her. She did describe her daughter, however.

Raina had returned home covered in dirt and forest debris. Her clothes had small tears and, oddly, her underskirt was missing. Dia didn't know what to think. Impatient, she wanted to talk and see the girl for herself. But that would have to wait until she woke.

Most vampire victims did not survive the undead's hunger. But Dia had heard rumors about Count Dracula, that he had drawn out his feedings on a few of his victims. The Order speculated that those few victims had become his three brides.

And with Daknavar following his father's footsteps, anything was possible. Dia had to check Raina for a bite wound. And protect her, if she had in fact been bitten.

Sighing, Dia glanced at the sun. Still early. She doubted Raina would wake for several more hours. She should follow Maleus, get some rest. Enjoying the warmth of the morning sun, she did not move. She lay her head down on her drawn up knees, letting the sun and the tinkling water soothe her. It felt nice to sit and relax.

From the corner of her eye, she saw a man approach. A rather attractive man, at that. Scars traced his face, one over his right eye, two others forming an 'x' on his cheek. Not poster perfect, but nicely rugged. She chuckled to herself. She needed sleep. It had been a few days since the last time she'd had any decent sleep.

The man sat at the opposite side of the fountain. Dia considered him for a moment, then shrugged it off. No vampire could stand direct sunlight, and any werewolves had since resumed their human forms. He was only a man, and nothing to worry her.

Her eyes slid shut.

She listened to the fountain and the villagers going about their daily lives. Most continued by, but she heard a few pause, undoubtedly staring at her and her blade resting against the bricks. Straining her ears, she could hear nothing from the man sitting behind her. That disconcerted her, and she tried harder.

So intent on him, she almost missed the other person sneaking up on her. Almost. Quiet footsteps moved towards her. The angle of his or her approach would cut right in front of Dia. She slit one eye open, just enough to see the person. A young man trudged her direction, head down but staring intently at her sword from the corner of his eyes. A smile flashed across her face.

Predictably, as he came closer, his gaze darted from her sword, to her, then around the small square. Timing it against his shifting eyes, she drew out a pistol and propped it on her elbow. The next time he glanced directly at her, his eyes widened as they fell on the pistol, pointed directly at him. Blanching, he turned and ran off.

Dia chuckled, shaking her head at the idiocy of some people.

"Nicely done." The scarred man nodded in the direction of the would-be thief.

"Yeah, well..." she shrugged it off.

"So, where you from? Not from Vaseria, that's obvious."

"How would you know?" She raised an eyebrow in challenge.

"Your accent for one thing. Your appearance. The way you handle yourself. Transylvanians, especially this lot, don't act like that."

"Well, you're right," she chuckled. "I'm from Italy, born and raised. And I'd certainly say _you're_not from around her either."

"Russia, originally. Moved to Austria when I was 14."

"Really? Interesting..." _Austria_? Something in the back of her mind clicked. The Shiro, Daknavar's adopted clan, lived in Austria. She studied him closely.

Well built, he carried himself like a warrior. His ashen skin stood out in the bright daylight. Un-kept, black-red hair fell into his eyes. Those eyes ... She swore they had just changed color. They burned a deep gold, almost as bright as the sun.

She only knew a few creatures that could do something like that ... and one of those was exactly what she was looking for.

"What's your name?" Dia kept her voice nonchalant, hiding her growing excitement. She let her gaze sweep the square, pausing briefly on the inn. Maleus stood there, leaning against the door jam. A hand rested discretely on his blade.

"Vladdamir Indrauganus von Morgrimm."

"Well, that's certainly a tongue twister."

She reached forward a hand. After a moment's hesitation, he clasped it, shaking her hand once. Dia fought not to show any reaction when she saw his palm. Fresh burns blackened it. He covered it quickly, but she thought she saw the shape of a cross in the charred flesh.

As he pulled his hand back, she also noticed a small tattoo on his right arm. She recognized it from somewhere...

"So, what do they call you?" Vladdamir sat back down on the fountain's edge.

Dia shot Maleus a meaningful glance, nodding slightly at him. This was about to get interesting...

* * *

**[The Watcher]** Without hesitation, Maleus reached for his revolver, pulling it out, aiming at Vladd and firing it. With the enhanced speed of his vampire blood, Vladd dodged the bullet, rushing forward and upper-cutting Maleus. The attack landed beneath the monster slayer's chin, sending him airborne.

"Valerious you idiot!" Nadia yelled as she maneuvered for her dual pistols and shooting them at the vampire. Just as he did with Maleus' attacks, Vladd swiftly dodged the bullets with ease.

"Shit." Dia muttered, witnessing the vampire's movements and hearing the thud of Maleus' body. The monster slayer struggled to his feet, ignoring the pain of not only his body slamming into the cobblestone, but the fact he had been stabbed by his own blade. Maleus clenched his jaw and winced, but grabbed his blade and went charging for the vampire. The vampire spun around quickly, avoiding Maleus' deadly strike and landed a devastating blow square in the human's stomach. Vladd followed through with another uppercut to Maleus. Maleus began to lift from the ground again, but Vladd grabbed the human by his foot and slammed him into the ground. Maleus groaned from the more than painful slam but kicked away from the vampire, rolling back onto his feet. He tightened his grip on his sword and awaited Vladd's movement. The vampire just grinned, allowing his ebony hair to cover his eyes. The yell of Nadia caused Vladd to look over his shoulder, only to be hit with a strong fist and then be cut by the blade of Maleus. Vladd just snarled and punched Maleus back and grabbed Nadia by the neck. He grinned observing her beautiful features.

"Such a heavenly creature. Why are you meddling with such an idiot such as he?"

"Get your damn hands off of her!" Maleus yelled, grabbing his revolver from the ground and shooting the vampire. Vladd dropped Nadia as Maleus' bullets penetrated into his side. The sensation burned. Silver. The only thing that would sting a vampire so badly. Vladd ignored the pain and sprinted toward Maleus. The monster hunter braced himself for a fight, only to be taken out by surprise. Vladd tackled Maleus into the ground, causing the both of them to cave into the cobblestone street. A brawl erupted between the two. Blow for blow, blood and sweat, all in the single crater like setting. Nadia just watched as she looked for her pistols. Spotting them a few yards behind her, she rushed to grab them. Suddenly, Vladd threw Maleus near Nadia, making his body land with a loud thud.

"We'll be seeing each other again," Vladd spoke, peering at Dia carefully. He nodded slightly to her. With that said the vampire was gone.

Maleus came to his feet, spitting blood from his mouth. "Shit," was all he could say.

* * *

**A/N: And sadly, we come to the end of what we wrote... Sort of. This was all that was published online. But we have literally almost 100 more pages worth of writing that we worked on together and that was just never put out there. So, if there's any interest in it, maybe one of these days I'll put together the rest of the story we have. Even then, it was never even finished, but that would be a whole 'nother thing entirely.**

**This was honestly one of my favorite things I was ever able to write with these guys. They're all so talented, and we had such an awesome time writing together. I really wish that our lives hadn't caused up to fall apart and allowed us to continue to enjoy things like this still. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!**


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